the IMF buys me dinner (and a pint or two) in Northern Ireland

My adventures in the Emerald Isle must be upon me because tonight I dug into the IMF. Now this is my personal international monetary fund, not of the Dominique Strauss-Kahn variety, which lives in an old Harney and Sons tea tin and is home to a variety of currencies, current and retired, left over from trips abroad or received as souvenirs from others, as is the case of the now-extinct Austrian schillings and the Dutch guilder. Hunting for Euros and Pounds, I recovered only half a Euro, but discovered a whopping 12.45 pounds. Not bad for a raid on the IMF tin. Though I will be touching down in Dublin on Sunday morning, I will spend my first few days in Northern Ireland taking in the Antrim coast and the troubled political history (and extensive political murals) of Belfast and perhaps Derry/Londonderry where my 12.45 pounds should fetch a plate of fish and chips and pint. Maybe two if I'm lucky.